


Cake Wars

by katelusive



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bad Acting, College AU, Friendship, Jealous Liam, Jealous Louis, M/M, fake engagement, irresponsible use of cake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-10 23:20:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17435411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katelusive/pseuds/katelusive
Summary: After learning that certain bakeries give free wedding cake samples to engaged couples, Harry convinces his roommate Zayn to pretend they’re engaged.  Louis is furious.  Liam just wants to make sure nobody gets arrested.





	Cake Wars

**Author's Note:**

> HEY GUYS! So this is the updated new and improved version of a random prompt I posted on tumblr like three or four years ago. Because jealous!Liam is life. Enjoy, love you <3

Zayn is only halfway through the door to their shared dorm room when Harry’s on him like a spider monkey, yanking him toward the closet.

 

“Thank god you’re back! We have to get ready!”

 

“What? I’m ready now.”

 

Harry’s pulling handfuls of headscarves out of his top drawer and holding each one up against Zayn’s cheek.

 

“That’s what you’re wearing to the cake shop?”

 

“Uh, yeah? What’s wrong with my outfit?”

 

“It’s fine, I guess. But we need to practice looking engaged.”

 

“I’m not wearing this, Haz,” says Zayn patiently, as Harry attempts to wind a deep blue silk scarf with tiny, sparkly stars around his forehead.

 

“But you look so – uh –“

 

“Ridiculous?”

 

“I was going to say, enchanting. Stevie Nicksian, even.”

 

“I know that’s a high compliment coming from you, but it’s not really – my style. I feel weird enough about this as it is.”

 

“Well how about the green one? You know, with the floral?”

 

“No headscarves,” says Zayn. “And we don’t need to practice, I mean, how hard can it be? We’ll just – gaze lovingly at each other. And not talk too much.”

 

Harry points accusingly at him with a purple scarf.

 

“Are you even taking this seriously?”

 

“Yeah, of course,” says Zayn, working to untie the rather tight knot Harry used to secure the scarf.

 

“They see engaged couples all the time, Zayn. We need to look natural. Acting is about _feeling_. We need to have love in our eyes and lust in our loins.”

 

“What? Gross!”

 

“It’s time to get into character,” says Harry, whipping the blue scarf away and immediately trying to replace it with the green one.

 

“No scarves,” Zayn repeats. “No loins. We’re in, we eat some cake, then we’re out, and that’s that.”

 

“Our performance starts now,” Harry continues. “Being engaged is a big deal.”

 

“You guys are getting engaged?”

 

Liam pokes his head through the door, and his eyes catch Zayn’s. Oh, god. He has such a knack for walking in at the exact wrong moment.

 

“Yes,” Harry beams. “Come in and congratulate us! Doesn’t this scarf look amazing with Zayn’s complexion?”

 

“Hm,” says Liam, brow furrowed. He steps into their messy, sage-smelling room, shirtless and damp-haired with a white towel slung over his shoulders.

 

It’s a lot.

 

“Yeah, it looks really nice. Very, um, artistic. Is it for your engagement party?”

 

He meets Zayn’s eyes again, joking, and Zayn feels himself flush.

 

“We’re obviously not engaged,” he mumbles, unable to look at Liam directly. “It’s not – it’s nothing. It’s so stupid.”

 

“Stupid? It’s the furthest thing from stupid!”

 

“Is this some kind of acting exercise?”

 

“I wish,” says Zayn miserably. Why is Liam so often shirtless? It makes everything harder. At least on Zayn.

 

“It’s not an exercise. This is the real deal. We’re going to a very fancy bakery to eat very expensive wedding cake. Did you know they give it out for free to engaged couples?”

 

“I did not know that,” says Liam, bemused.

 

“Yeah, it’s very classy. Very upscale. Gemma and Blake went last summer. It’s going to be my finest performance.”

 

Liam looks caught between laughter and utter confusion. Why on Earth did Zayn agree to this? Liam’s going to tell Louis, who will definitely freak out and possibly try to kill him. And then, if he lives, he’ll never, ever hear the end of it.

 

“They give you samples so you can pick out the cake you want for your reception,” Zayn mumbles. “Harry’s been on me about it for weeks.”

 

“And he finally said yes,” says Harry, batting his eyelashes horribly at Zayn. “My beloved. My future husband.”

 

“Only for the afternoon,” says Zayn, trying unsuccessfully to shake Harry off his arm, where he’s attempting to wind a long, sparkly silver bracelet around his wrist.

 

“Stop it, Zayn, we have to _practice_. This is what I’m talking about. It has to be authentic. What are they gonna think if you keep pushing me away?”

 

Liam clearly thinks they’re batshit crazy, which Zayn’s realizing more and more isn’t that far off. He’s beginning to doubt his own sanity as well. Liam’s eyes linger on their interlocked fingers, which Zayn has given up trying to disentangle.

 

“Well, congratulations,” says Liam. “Have, um, a good time. And – good luck.”

 

“Thanks,” says Harry happily, framing Zayn’s face with his hands. “Doesn’t he look amazing?”

 

Liam opens his mouth, meets Zayn’s eyes, and a small blush rises in his cheeks. Zayn wants to literally die. Why is Harry like this?

 

“Amazing,” Liam repeats, and flees.

 

“Wait, Liam,” he calls, but the door’s already closing.

 

“Now look what you did!”

 

He wrenches his hand out of Harry’s. The bracelet actually does look nice, although he’ll never admit it.

 

“Don’t worry about him,” Harry says wisely. “He’s just jealous that I’ve gotten fake-engaged to you before he could.”

 

“That is _definitely_ not accurate.”

 

“Why do you care so much about what he thinks, anyway? It’s just Liam.”

 

“I don’t care,” Zayn mumbles, getting up to check himself out in the mirror. Not bad, although his hair is everywhere from Harry’s scarf attacks. “It’s just – embarrassing.”

 

Harry comes up behind him, dropping his chin onto Zayn’s shoulder and smiling at him in the mirror.

 

“Don’t be embarrassed. You’re a star. Let’s practice kissing. Do you think we should kiss with some cake between our mouths, like Lady and the Tramp? Would that be romantic?”

 

“Ugh, absolutely not!” Zayn twists away from him, ducking under his arm. “Where do you get these horrible ideas?”

 

“Horrible? That was my best idea yet.”

 

“Come on, we have to leave,” says Zayn. “The bus comes in ten minutes. Let’s just get this over with.”

 

“Our chariot awaits, my love,” Harry simpers, grabbing a handful of scarves on his way out the door. “We’ll just fix you up on the way. I have some rouge in my bag.”

 

*

 

“Hey, Lou,” says Liam, attempting to open the door to their dorm room.

 

It only opens a third of the way, blocked by a pile of dirty laundry and a damp, smelly towel. Liam grimaces, kicking it out of the way.

 

“Not now, Payno,” says Louis, tongue jammed into the corner of his mouth. He’s perched on the edge of the couch with his shoes on, PlayStation controller clutched in both hands. “I’m right in the middle of something.”

 

Whatever he’s in the middle of is _loud_.

 

“I just cleaned up in here,” says Liam, hanging his towel up on the back of the door. After three seconds of consideration, he hangs up Louis’s as well. Before it starts growing mold.

 

Louis ignores him, jumping off the couch, mashing buttons furiously.

 

“Fuck! Fuck it all!”

 

He throws the controller onto the couch, then slumps dramatically over the arm.

 

“You’ll get em next time,” says Liam. “Listen, quick question – did you know about this whole wedding cake thing?”

 

“What cake thing?”

 

“You know,” says Liam, studying his nails casually. “The whole, pretend to be engaged to get free cake samples thing?”

 

“Oh, yeah.” Louis rolls his eyes. “Harry’s been trying to rope me into that for weeks. He’s got this half-baked idea that people will shower you with baked goods as long as you have a dime-store ring. Have you ever heard anything so stupid?”

 

“He seems very set on it,” says Liam carefully.

 

“What, has he asked you to go with him now? The boy won’t quit.”

 

“No, not me. I think Zayn’s gonna do it.”

 

“Not a chance,” Louis snorts, taking a quick swig of Dr. Pepper and throwing his legs over the arm of the couch. The pounding, bass-heavy music of the game roars back to life.

 

Liam sits down on the other side of the couch, rubbing the back of his head.

 

“Uh, I’m pretty sure he is. Harry must’ve convinced him.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“They’re down the hall practicing their engagement right now.”

 

Louis pauses the game, meeting Liam’s eyes.

 

“Practicing? How do you mean?”

 

“I don’t know, they were, like – talking about how it has to be realistic. I guess they’re going down this afternoon or something.”

 

“Oh, no they aren’t,” Louis growls.

 

“No, I’m – pretty sure they are. They had rings and everything.”

 

“Was Harry trying to get Zayn to practice kissing? I bet he was. That little – I’m gonna –“

 

“Calm down,” says Liam, catching the controller before it can bounce off the couch. “There was no kissing. At least, not that I saw.”

 

And thank god for that, says a very un-calm voice in the back of his mind. Not that he cares, obviously, who Zayn goes around kissing. But he can’t deny that for some reason, the idea of Zayn kissing Harry twists something unpleasant in his guts.

 

Before he can think about it very long, a t-shirt hits him squarely in the face.

 

“What are you doing, Tommo?”

 

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

 

“Uh, ruining the tidying up I very graciously did yesterday?”

 

Another t-shirt hits him in the shoulder, and he whips it back at Louis.

 

“Why can’t you get dressed without throwing stuff everywhere?”

 

“I’m preparing for damage control,” says Louis, jaw tight. “This is a disaster waiting to happen, Liam. They’re gonna get kicked out, or arrested, or worse.”

 

“They won’t get _arrested_ ,” says Liam uncertainly, catching another t-shirt as it sails through the air. “Maybe a stern talking-to. If they even get caught, which –“

 

“Oh, they’ll get caught,” says Louis ominously. “It’s _Harry._ And in the meantime, who knows what kind of havoc they’ll wreak at that poor cake shop?”

 

“Who cares?” Liam sees exactly where this is headed, and he doesn’t like it one bit. “Listen, Lou, if you’re jealous, why don’t you just talk to Harry about how you feel? He’s your boyfriend, I’m sure he would –“

 

“I’m not jealous,” Louis snaps. “I’m _concerned_.”

 

“Concerned, sure,” says Liam, stomach sinking. “What’s the plan, then? Your plan, I mean, which I have no part in?”

 

He steels himself. Nothing Louis says can sway him. He’s better than committing cake fraud just to spy on his dumbass best friends. More than that, he’s definitely not jealous whatsoever that Harry would pretend to be engaged to Zayn to get free kisses. Er, cake. And he’s especially not annoyed that Harry thought of that idea first and stole it.

 

Louis finally pulls on a black t-shirt that looks exactly like the one he was already wearing. He glares at Liam.

 

“Get dressed, Payne. We’re going cake tasting.”

 

*

 

“Hellooo,” sings Harry, pushing the bakery door open. “Newly engaged couple, coming through!”

 

It smells like heaven. A cute little bell tinkles as the door closes behind them, sounding like an adorable death knell. Zayn regrets everything.

 

“Shut up,” he hisses under his breath. “You’re gonna get us kicked out of here before we even –“

 

“Just play along,” whispers Harry, squeezing Zayn’s hand before he can rip it away.

 

The girl behind the counter gives them a toothy smile.

 

“Well, hello there! Welcome to Lilac Street Bakery! My name’s Jill, how can I help you today?”

 

“Oh, we’re just here to pick out our wedding cake,” says Harry, holding up Zayn’s hand. “We’re so in love. Aren’t we, sweetie?”

 

“Yes,” says Zayn, trying to sound less anxious than he feels. “Madly. I believe we have an appointment, it should be under Styles?”

 

“Actually it’s under Malik-Styles,” says Harry, meeting Zayn’s eyes with a distressing lovesick look. “Because we’re hyphenating.”

 

“Aw, aren’t you boys adorable?” Jill giggles. “I have your reservation right here. If you follow me, I’ll show you to your table.”

 

“Thank you so much, Jill,” says Harry. “I’m Harry, and this sexy little minx is Zayn.”

 

Jill laughs delightedly. Zayn wants very badly to die.

 

She leads them down a short hallway into a cozy, carpeted room with lots of dim, low-hanging lights. The walls are covered in flowery wallpaper, with a lot of velvet tapestries hanging everywhere. It smells like peppermint.

 

“It’s working!” Harry stage-whispers as she walks ahead of them.

 

Zayn elbows him hard in the ribs.

 

“I can’t believe you’re in school for acting, you idiot,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “There’s no way you’re passing your classes.”

 

“Actually I’m passing all of them, because I’m obviously amazing,” Harry whispers back, tightening his sweaty grip on Zayn’s hand. Then, cheerful and overloud: “This is so exciting, babe! I can’t wait to pick out our wedding cake! For our _wedding_!”

 

“Here you are, gentlemen,” says Jill, indicating a table near the far wall.

 

“Oh my god,” Zayn groans to himself, defeated, allowing Harry to drag him to the table. It’s all frills and shades of blue and lavender, completed by soft, lilting piano music. It is, he has to admit, very romantic. If only he didn’t feel like he was about to faint.

 

Harry graciously pulls out Zayn’s seat. Zayn attempts to look less panicky than he feels.

 

“Here’s the tea menu,” says Jill, smiling down at them with an expression usually reserved for puppies or small children. “Our seasonal special is the Mandarin Rose, imported from China.”

 

“Ooh, we’ll have that,” says Harry. “Sounds amazing. So how does this work, exactly? Is there a cake menu?”

 

“Actually, I’m going to bring you boys the full range of our current selections,” says Jill. “Not all at once, of course. We’ll begin with the lightest cakes, then work our way up to the heavier, denser items. Unless you’d like to customize your own abridged tasting menu!”

 

“Oh no, that sounds positively lovely,” says Harry. “Doesn’t it dear?”

 

“Lovely,” Zayn echoes robotically, wondering how long this is going to take. Harry kicks him under the table.

 

“Isn’t he just the sweetest little thing you’ve ever seen?” Harry says to Jill, squeezing Zayn’s fingers with clammy tenderness. His nineteen rings dig unpleasantly into Zayn’s fingers, and Zayn tries not to blow their cover by openly scowling at him.

 

“You two are the cutest couple. How did you meet?”

 

Zayn’s heart lurches, stomach suddenly filled with ice. For all Harry’s talk about authenticity, they hadn’t bothered to work out any kind of backstory. They’re screwed.

 

But just as he’s about to make a break for it, Harry launches into a complex and utterly fabricated story about how they met on a hiking trip in Mykonos. Jill is captivated. Zayn can’t do anything but nod wordlessly along, trying not to have a stroke.

 

He never, ever should’ve agreed to this.

 

*

 

“Here it is,” mutters Louis, looking up from his phone screen to the intricate script above the storefront. “Lilac Street Bakery. What a stupid name.”

 

“It’s not even on Lilac Street,” says Liam, perplexed. “What are they referring to?”

 

“Any last minute questions? No? Good. Let’s get in there and control the damage.”

 

“You mean spy on them?” Liam asks wearily, tugging the collar of his button-down shirt self-consciously. Louis had insisted he dress up to “look the part”, despite the fact that he, Louis, chose to wear tattered Vans and black jeans with both knees torn out. They couldn’t look less like a couple than if they’d deliberately tried.

 

“No! Where’s your head at, Payne? We’re not here to spy. It’s like you don’t listen to a word I say.”

 

“Accurate,” Liam mumbles.

 

Louis pretends not to hear him, grabbing Liam by the elbow and dragging him inside. The door tinkles pleasantly, and a severe-looking woman with an elaborate blonde bun looks up from some paperwork.

 

“Yes? Can I help you?”

 

Louis throws an arm loosely around Liam’s waist, plastering on his most sickening smile. The reality of how bad an idea this truly is begins to dawn on Liam.

 

“Hello, ma’am. We’re here for the cake thing. To, uh, eat the cakes.”

 

The woman stares at them like they have two heads each. Her nametag says ADELE, and underneath that, in small, curly font, SHOP OWNER. Great. They shouldn’t be here.

 

“We’re getting married,” Louis adds, like that explains everything.

 

“The two of _you_?”

 

Liam was so wrong to have agreed to this. He contemplates making a break for it and leaving Louis to fend for himself. But what about Zayn?

 

“Yeah, the two of us,” Louis snaps, squeezing Liam’s waist painfully. “You never seen two good-looking guys on the hunt for a wedding cake before?”

 

Adele the Shop Owner purses her lips suspiciously.

 

“Do you have an appointment?”

 

“I’m not sure,” says Louis. “Do we, darling? I believe _you_ were supposed to make the appointment.”

 

He glares up at Liam, clearly having lost his damn mind. Liam glares back.

 

“No, I don’t believe so, sweetheart,” he says to Louis in a tone that he hopes conveys the fact that he’s going to murder him later. Then, to Adele: “I’m so sorry, ma’am. Truly. It’s my fault. I must’ve forgotten to make the call.”

 

He chances a small smile at her. She doesn’t smile back, but her face seems to soften a bit. Older women tend to like Liam for some reason.

 

“I’ve just been so busy planning the entire wedding by myself,” he continues, ignoring Louis’s sudden death-grip on his arm. “I know my fiancé here _wants_ to help out. But he just can’t seem to find the time, most days. And there’s so much to do!”

 

“We’re sorry for the inconvenience,” Louis adds flatly.

 

“Well, that’s alright, I supposed,” Adele murmurs, straightening her wire-rimmed glasses and opening a large book behind the desk. “Let me check our schedule and see what I can do. May I have a name for your party?”

 

“Payne,” says Liam.

 

Louis glares daggers at him.

 

“Tomlinson-Payne, actually. We discussed this, _honey_.”

 

“Calm down, darling,” says Liam, surreptitiously attempting to pry Louis’s strong little fingers off his forearm. “Let’s just relax, and enjoy our – um – cake-tasting ceremony.”

 

Adele closes the book. “We’re serving another couple at the moment, but if you don’t mind sharing the room, we can happily accommodate you.”

 

“Yeah, we’ll share,” says Louis. “Right, sweetie?”

 

“Of course, um, honey bear,” says Liam, regretting every decision he’s made which led to this moment. “Let’s taste some cake.”

 

*

 

“So then I said, come on Zaynie,” Harry pauses to sip some tea with his little finger cocked at a ridiculous angle. “Don’t be jealous, I’m only kissing her onstage! It doesn’t _mean_ anything! I mean, it’s my career, after all, so there’s plenty of onstage kissing. It took him awhile to get used to it, but he’s fine now. Aren’t you, darling? Zayne?”

 

“Yes, just fine,” says Zayn through gritted teeth. If looks could kill, Harry would already be a pile of bleached bones at the bottom of the Grand Canyon.

 

Jill sighs happily. She’s pulled up a chair to listen to Harry ramble about his imaginary career as a famous off-Broadway actor, and Zayn’s apparent inability to deal with his “life on the road”, as he calls it.

 

Zayn’s just trying to focus on enjoying the stupid cake. Unfortunately, it’s not even that good. Plus, he’s allergic to strawberries, which he’s pretty sure have been included in at least two samples so far. They should really warn people about that.

 

“And I might be up for another award next season, fingers crossed,” Harry’s saying. “Zayn’s gonna have to get his tuxedo pressed! You wouldn’t believe how good he looks in a tux.”

 

“Wow,” says Jill, looking from Harry to Zayn with her eyes full of wonder. “So, what’s it like being engaged to such a big star?”

 

“It’s, well,” says Zayn, trying to stomp covertly on Harry’s foot under the table. “It’s really quite an experience.”

 

“Oh, I bet,” Jill sighs.

 

The door opens across the room and Jill leaps up, smoothing out her apron. Her tone becomes friendly and businesslike.

 

“Anything else I can get for you gentlemen?”

 

“That’ll be it for now, sweet thing,” says Harry with a dazzling smile. “Thank you so much.”

 

Jill giggles breathlessly, then walks quickly away, avoiding the eyes of the tall blonde woman who has just entered. Zayn keeps his eyes trained on his plate. This is the longest afternoon of his entire life.

 

“There’s something wrong with your brain,” he says to Harry in a low, angry whisper when Jill’s too far away to hear them. “Did your mom drop you on your head when you were a baby?”

 

“I don’t think so, although I do have this odd flat spot near the back—”

 

“What are you thinking, inviting her to _sit down_ with us?”

 

“She’s nice! She likes us!”

 

“What’s next? Standing up and screaming that we’re not really a couple? They’ll probably make us pay for all this cake if they find out we’re scamming!”

 

“Oh, calm down, Zaynie,” says Harry, rolling his eyes. He takes an enormous bite of cake and then immediately attempts to say something else, spraying Zayn with buttercream.

 

“Stop it, you animal! I can’t understand you.”

 

Harry swallows. “I said, she has no idea. You worry too much.”

 

He reaches for Zayn’s hand across the table, tenderly caressing his knuckles. “Are you alright, darling? You look a little flushed.”

 

“I’m fine,” Zayn snaps, pulling away. “This is just a lot more stressful than I was expecting. I wanted some free cake, not a supporting role in your delusional little fantasy.”

 

“The world is my stage,” says Harry serenely, popping a piece of pink cake in his mouth. “Have you tried this strawberry-lemon flavor? It’s absolutely divine.”

 

Across the room, another couple is being sat at the table closest to the door. Zayn chances a glance over at them, slightly relieved that at least Jill will have other guests to attend to. But, wait a second –

 

“Hey,” he says, grabbing Harry’s arm. His stomach drops into his shoes. “Holy shit, isn’t that –“

 

Harry blinks, looking around innocently, and then freezes.

 

“Oh . . . my . . . _god_.”

 

“What on earth could they possibly be doing here?”

 

“Oh, I know exactly what they’re doing here,” says Harry darkly.

 

“This is madness,” says Zayn. “Oh god, what is happening? This is such a disaster. Come on, Haz, let’s get out of here.”

 

“We’re not fucking leaving. This was my idea, and I’m not going anywhere until I’ve tasted the full menu. Just ignore them. We worked hard for this.”

 

“We didn’t work at all!”

 

“I’ve poured my soul into this performance. I know you can feel my energy. I’m on fire today.”

 

“They’re looking over at us,” says Zayn uncertainly. He lifts a hand to give a wave, and Harry quickly slaps it down.

 

“No, what are you doing? We can’t acknowledge them! It’ll blow our cover!”

 

“Harry, I don’t think I can do this. We have to bail.”

 

“Zayn, my dear. My treasure. Love of my life. Would you care for some more tea?”

 

“No, I don’t want anymore fucking tea!”

 

But Harry’s not listening. He’s aiming a haughty smile toward the table across the room, where Louis and Liam are sitting on the same side, hiding behind a menu like they think that’ll disguise their identities. Liam’s wearing a tie, Zayn notices dazedly. He looks very handsome. Is this a dream? Is he going into anaphylactic shock from the strawberries?

 

“This is a catastrophe,” he mutters to the half-eaten cake on his plate.

 

“This is _war_ ,” says Harry grimly.

 

*

 

“Look at those two,” Louis hisses, yanking Liam down behind the tea menu. “Mooning over each other. I can’t stand it. I’m going over there right now.”

 

“No, you’re not! You want to get us kicked out? I don’t think they’ve noticed us, so just – be cool.”

 

“Be cool? How am I supposed to be cool when my boyfriend is holding hands with someone else right in front of me?”

 

They _are_ holding hands, which Liam noticed immediately on the way in. Not that he cares, of course. Honestly, he has to hand it to them – Harry and Zayn definitely look like a couple. Engrossed in intimate, inaudible conversation, staring tenderly into each other’s eyes.

 

Liam’s guts clench in a weird, painful way that he tries not to think about too hard.

 

“You said you weren’t jealous,” he whispers angrily at Louis.

 

“I’m _not_ ,” Louis snaps right back, still holding up the menu to shield their faces. “But don’t you see them over there, gazing into each other’s eyes like that? It’s goddamn sickening!”

 

“You said you wanted to keep an eye on them, not stare them down and complain about it! Why the hell are we even here?”

 

“I told you! We’re here to help them if they need it!”

 

“Wow, I definitely don’t believe you.”

 

“Fine! I just want to make sure they don’t start making out, or something –“

 

“Okay, that’s it,” says Liam, pushing his chair back. “I’m leaving. I can’t be involved in this ridiculous, jealousy-fuelled—“

 

“No!” Louis half-shouts, then looks around furtively and lowers his voice. “Come on, Payno, don’t leave. That’s not what this is about. I promise.”

 

“Then what is it about?”

 

Liam’s frustrated, and as much as he doesn’t want to admit it to himself, only half of it is related to Louis’s jealousy issues. He really, really needs to calm down. Why should he care who Zayn holds hands with, or gazes longingly at, or gets fake-engaged to? It’s not like Zayn’s his boyfriend.

 

Even if they did kiss after the party last weekend.

 

But it obviously didn’t mean anything. He probably kisses all his friends, which is absolutely _fine_ with Liam, because Zayn is his own person and can do whatever he wants. Liam has no right to think or say otherwise.

 

“It’s about, um, you know what it’s about!”

 

Louis glowers at Liam. His hair is fluffed out from the humidity, making him look like an angry little badger. It would be adorable if Liam didn’t currently want to murder him.

 

“No, I don’t. Tell me.”

 

But before Louis can spew any more bullshit, they’re interrupted by a cute redhead in a pink apron.

 

“Hi boys, I’m Jill,” she says distractedly, glancing over her shoulder at Harry and Zayn’s table.

 

 _Me too, sister_ , thinks Liam.

 

“I see you’ve had a chance to look over our tea menu. What would you like? Our seasonal special is the Mandarin Rose.”

 

“That sounds wonderful, actually –“

 

“A pot of Earl Grey,” Louis interrupts, still glaring at Liam. “And a little dish of sugar, please. Thank you.”

 

“You know I don’t like Earl Grey,” Liam complains after Jill sashays away. In his peripheral vision, he sees her stop at the other table. It’s incredibly difficult to keep his eyes trained on Louis.

 

“Tough luck, dear heart,” snaps Louis. “Look, don’t get fancy, okay? We’re here to make sure they don’t get into trouble. Just stick to the plan, and don’t draw attention to yourself.”

 

“Plan? What plan?”

 

He can’t believe Zayn and Harry haven’t noticed them yet. They’re literally the only other couple in the room. Are they really that engrossed in each other?

 

Louis is staring at their table too, eyes narrowed.

 

“I can’t believe he’s doing this to me.”

 

“Doing what?”

 

“ _This_.”

 

“Uh, if I recall correctly, this crazy cake thing was his idea. You didn’t even want to go. What’s your problem?”

 

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” says Louis, scowling at his teacup. “This is his revenge, don’t you see? He’s getting back at me for not taking him in the first place.”

 

“That is completely insane,” says Liam honestly.

 

Jill returns to fill both of their cups with steaming tea. It smells, well, like Earl Grey.

 

“Thanks,” says Liam, unable to feign enthusiasm.

 

“I’ll be right out with your first round of cake samples,” she says brightly, barely looking at them before she skips back over to Harry and Zayn’s table. Wait, why is she _sitting down_?

 

“You don’t know Harry like I do. He’s a devious one. He knew I’d follow him, so he’s putting on a show. But I won’t give him the satisfaction of letting it get to me.”

 

“Really? None of this is getting to you?”

 

“No,” Louis snaps. “I don’t care if they hold hands. Besides, two can play at that game.”

 

He grabs Liam’s hands across the table, fixing him with a disturbing, wide-eyed look.

 

“You’re the apple of my eye,” he says, sounding possessed.

 

“I’m gonna leave,” Liam threatens.

 

Louis drops his hands, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“I thought you were my friend.”

 

“I am your friend. However, I didn’t realize that meant I’d have to hold your hand in a fancy cake shop to make your oblivious boyfriend jealous for _no reason_. This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. They don’t even know we’re over here.”

 

“Oh, they know,” says Louis darkly. “Believe me, they know.”

 

*

 

“I can’t believe they followed us,” says Zayn, once Jill has finally bounced away. Harry’s got both of his hands in a death grip, a terrifying fake smile plastered on his face.

 

“I can. I’m so angry, I can’t even think straight. I knew he’d pull something like this.”

 

“What do you mean, you knew he’d do this?”

 

“He won’t come with me himself, but God forbid I try to do it with someone else – don’t you _dare_ look over there, Zayn Malik, I swear to Christ –“

 

“Okay, wow, fine,” yelps Zayn, trying fruitlessly to wrench his hand out of Harry’s clammy grip. “Have you considered that maybe they’re just doing the same thing as us? I mean, it’s not a bad idea. Not that we’ve executed it well at all, this has obviously been a nightmare, but –“

 

“Not a chance,” growls Harry. “They’re not here for the cake. They’re here to _spy_. And goddammit, we’re gonna give them something to spy on.”

 

“What? Harry, wait – mmf –“

 

Before he can get another word out, Harry yanks him close and kisses him rather dramatically on the cheek, uncomfortably close to the corner of his mouth. Zayn pulls away, affronted.

 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, you little –“

 

Harry kicks him demurely under the table, just as Jill steps up with a fresh platter of samples.

 

“Sugary love muffin,” he finishes, forcing a smile. Harry smiles sweetly back like the green-eyed goblin he is.

 

Jill sets the platter on the table, stepping back and clasping her hands to her chest.

 

“You two are such a delight. You remind me of my parents.”

 

Zayn swears there are tears sparkling in her eyes. Her lipstick looks shiny and fresh, like she just reapplied it in the bathroom.

 

“Aw, Jill, what a nice thing to say,” says Harry, sounding genuinely touched.

 

“It’s just wonderful to see that true love still exists out there in the world, even with all the terrible things you see on the news. Makes me feel like there’s some hope for the world.”

 

Zayn can practically feel Louis’s eyes burning into them from across the room. What did he do to deserve this?

 

He chances a look over and accidentally catches Liam’s eye. A spark runs between them, and Liam quickly looks down. Zayn’s heart drops. Does Liam think he’s enjoying this? His face prickles uncomfortably, although with shame or allergic reaction, he can’t be sure.

 

Why, oh why did he let his guard down and kiss Liam after that dumb party last weekend? What was he thinking? He’d been a little drunk, a lot exhausted, and Liam’s arms looked like home. God, he probably thinks Zayn is such a dick. He kept planning to talk to Liam about it, but it never seemed to be the right moment, and now –

 

“Alright, that was a pretty good show,” says Harry, once Jill has gone over to the other table. “Maybe it’ll be enough to get them to leave. We’ll see.”

 

“That’s your genius plan? Enrage Louis into peacefully leaving?”

 

“Yep,” says Harry, taking a benign sip of tea.

 

“You really think that’s going to work?”

 

“If it doesn’t, we’ll just have to pull out the big guns.”

 

“Oh no, definitely not,” says Zayn. “no big guns. Harry, look at me. No big guns.”

 

But Harry isn’t listening. He’s spearing a piece of angel food cake contemplatively, looking downright predatory.

 

“Oh yes,” he murmurs to himself. “The big guns will come out to play.”

 

*

 

“They’re escalating,” Louis hisses, clutching Liam’s arm hard enough to bruise. “Those little fuckers, I can’t believe – oh my god! Oh my _god_! He just kissed him!”

 

“Lou, calm down,” says Liam, trying to ignore how fast his own heart is beating. “It was just on the cheek. And you’re being unreasonable. We should just get out of here.”

 

“Oh, and give them free rein to make out all night?”

 

“He’s probably only doing it because you’re here,” says Liam, although at this point he’s not sure. Harry and Zayn have always been close. Liam feels an undeniable stab of jealousy. It should be him over there with Zayn.

 

Wait, no. That’s crazy. Liam takes two deep breaths.

 

It should be nobody over there, except maybe a real engaged couple trying to buy some cake. This is an awful, insane idea, and they’re all probably moments away from getting arrested and thrown into bakery jail.

 

Still, he can’t stop himself imagining the way Zayn leaned in to kiss him the other night, fingers twisting in the front of Liam’s flannel. He tasted like lime and clove cigarettes. God, Liam must be the dumbest man in the world for thinking it meant anything other than exactly what it was – a drunken, one-time kiss. Between _friends_.

 

“I don’t give a shit about that,” Louis is saying. “Does that make it okay? No! We need a plan of attack.”

 

“No, no no no. No attacks, Tommo. Let’s just eat some cake and get out of here with our dignity intact, so we can start pretending this never happened.”

 

“What’s that, Liam?” Louis cups a hand to his ear. “Did you say, let’s give them a taste of their own medicine?”

 

“I most certainly did _not_ –“

 

It’s too late. Louis grabs the front of his shirt and mashes their mouths together, eyes on Harry across the room. Liam tries ineffectively to twist away, giving Louis a big mouthful of hair.

 

“Blech, I mean, oh _baby_ ,” Louis says loudly, “sorry to make such a scene, I’m just so incredibly happy to be here with you!”

 

He attempts to kiss Liam again, which results in a cutlery-rattling scuffle.

 

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

 

Across the room, Zayn and Harry appear placid, talking in low voices with their faces close. Harry takes a calm sip of tea.

 

Maybe Louis is onto something after all. As much as he hates to admit it, they definitely don’t look platonic. They’re in their own little world.

 

“I just love you so much!” Louis trumpets furiously, yanking Liam toward him again in a surprise attack. Liam turns his face away just in time, and Louis plants a wet, disgusting kiss near his ear.

 

“Boys, please, settle down!”

 

Adele hurries toward them, looking stern.

 

“Please,” she intones, towering over their table. “Other couples are trying to enjoy this moment. If you can’t control yourselves, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

 

Louis drops Liam’s collar. Liam sees his chance.

 

“Actually, we were just about to –“

 

“Order another pot of tea,” says Louis with a winning smile. “So sorry, ma’am, we just got a bit carried away in the moment. You know, what with the – cakes, and the romance, and all. We’ll be quiet.”

 

“Thank you,” says Adele, mollified.

 

“Actually, we will _not_ be quiet, because injustice on this scale cannot go unpunished,” Louis spits as soon as she’s out of earshot. “And if we’re going down, we’re taking them with us.”

 

“That’s the literal opposite of why we came here,” says Liam desperately. “Louis, come on –“

 

“New plan. Nobody gets out alive.”

 

This is the moment, unquestionably, when Liam should walk away. But his legs don’t want to work. He can’t stop looking at Zayn’s fingers tangled with Harry’s.

 

“Oh goddammit,” he mutters to himself.

 

*

 

“Tell me they didn’t just make out in the middle of the fucking cake room.”

 

“They did,” Zayn replies, a little shell-shocked. “I mean, it wasn’t a full-on tongue kiss, and Liam looked a little, uh, disgusted, but – I guess you were right?”

 

“Of course I’m right. That’s why you should listen to me next time I tell you to put your tongue in my mouth.”

 

“Yeah, still not doing that,” says Zayn, pretending he’s not trying desperately to watch Liam out of the corner of his eye.

 

He should’ve left half an hour ago, as soon as this started to go south. But he can’t shake the need to talk to Liam, to smooth out the strange look he’d caught in Liam’s eye after Harry’s disastrous kiss attempt. _It’s not what it looks like_ , he thinks urgently toward Liam.

 

“I’m going to kill that sexy little motherfucker,” Harry’s saying calmly. “He had his chance to be my fake fiancé, but did he take it? No, of course not. He wants to stay home and play video games until his fingers fall off. But if I try to go out on my own, what does he do? Shows up with _your_ boyfriend, sucking face in public like a couple of _animals—_ “

 

“Liam’s not my boyfriend,” says Zayn, dazed.

 

“Oh, he’s not? I thought you guys were kinda, y’know,” says Harry, briefly distracted, making a fairly unambiguous hand signal. “That’s the word on the street, anyway.”

 

“The street is wrong! Stop that!”

 

“Not to mention, you can’t say a single word to him lately without looking like you want to swallow him whole.”

 

“Shut up,” Zayn mumbles, blushing. “That’s not true.”

 

“It is true, and frankly, I’m gonna need you to channel a lot more of that energy right now. Give me the look, okay? On my signal.”

 

“Harry, no. I have to get out of here.”

 

“You can’t leave! We have to counter-attack!”

 

“I think I’m having an allergic reaction or something –“

 

“Oh, no you don’t!” Harry grabs Zayn by the collar. “Three, two, one –“

 

“Harry, wait—“  
  


But it’s too late.

 

*

 

“Oh, my actual lord in fucking _heaven_ ,” says Louis.

 

He’s openly staring, jaw slack. So is Liam. It’s quite a sight.

 

Harry’s cupping Zayn’s face in his big hands, kissing him deeply. As Liam watches, Zayn’s hands grasp weakly at Harry’s elbows, like he’s overcome by emotion.

 

Louis stands up, ready for battle.

 

Zayn – lips still attached to Harry’s – meet’s Liam’s eyes.

 

An electric shock runs through him, from head to toe.

 

Before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s in front of their table. Harry breaks the kiss, staring past Liam at Louis with a self-satisfied little smirk.

 

Zayn looks up with his big beautiful eyes and says, “Oh god, Liam, I’m so –“

 

Liam pulls him out of the chair, wraps an arm around his waist, and kisses him soundly on the mouth.

 

Zayn makes a surprised little “mmf!” noise against his lips but doesn’t pull away. In fact, he circles both arms around Liam, pressing his hands into Liam’s lower back. It’s a few seconds before Liam’s brain catches up to his body, and he fully realizes the impact of what he’s doing.

 

He breaks the kiss first, staring wildly down into Zayn’s eyes, which look just as shocked as Liam feels.

 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he breathes against Zayn’s lips.

 

They stare at each other for a raw second, faces so close, breathing each other’s air. A slow, beautiful smile begins to spread over Zayn’s face, as fresh and gorgeous as a sunrise.

 

“Not your boyfriend, huh?” says Harry from somewhere, sounding very smug.

 

Then there’s a scream, an explosion of shattering china, and a big gob of cake hits Liam in the cheek. He leaps away from Zayn, looking around for the source of the attack, and suddenly Jill is jabbing a finger into his chest.

 

“How dare you! How dare you ruin a special experience for this extraordinary couple! You’re a homewrecker!”

 

“I – what?”

 

“And how dare _you_ ,” Louis chimes in, glaring murderously at Harry, who watches him stalk over with a small smile. “Wipe that smirk off your face, buddy. You think you’re so slick. Well I’ve got some news for you – you’re not!”

 

“Come here, you little asshole,” says Harry. He folds Louis into a tight hug, as Jill watches, confused and horrified. “Why wouldn’t you just come with me if you wanted to go so bad?”

 

“Get off me, Haz, I’m incredibly mad at you!” Louis hisses, twisting in his grasp like an angry cat. There’s cake in his hair.

 

“What’s going on?” Jill shrieks.

 

Liam looks at Zayn, who’s looking right back at him, dumbfounded. They should probably sneak away while they can.

 

Louis smears a big handful of frosting across Harry’s face.

 

“Here you go, Styles! You wanted to have your cake and eat it too, so better eat up!”

 

“You jerk, that was the worst flavor!”

 

Harry smashes a piece of classic vanilla into Louis’s cheek.

“We should probably –“ Liam whispers to Zayn, just as the door flies open. In rushes Adele, white-faced and furious.

 

“What on _God’s green Earth_ is going on in here?” she thunders.

 

Everyone freezes.

 

“Oops,” says Harry, sucking some frosting off of Louis’s finger.

 

*

 

Later, after they’ve been unceremoniously ejected from the Lilac Street Bakery and threatened with everything from legal action to bodily harm should they ever try to return, Liam somehow finds himself watching Harry and Louis make out in the alley next door.

 

“Do you guys maybe, uh, wanna head back to campus?” he attempts. Neither acknowledges him in any way.

 

“You know they can’t hear you,” says Zayn, also watching with his nose wrinkled.

 

“I don’t understand how they can go from wanting to kill each other to practically tearing each other’s clothes off in public.”

 

“I think getting kicked out of paces is a turn-on for them. Remember when we got thrown out of that club and had to split a cab back to school?”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Liam shudders. “I tried to repress that.”

 

“Yeah,” says Zayn bleakly. “Me too. But some things just stay with you.”

 

“You wanna get out of here?”

 

“Yeah,” says Zayn, aiming a little smile Liam’s way. “I think we’ve been publicly humiliated enough for one day.”

 

Zayn follows him down the sidewalk to the bus stop, trailing a bit behind. He’s avoiding Liam’s eyes, unless that’s just Liam’s imagination. Liam doesn’t blame him What was he thinking? Following his best friend downtown, then kissing him in the middle of the stupid cake room? It’s reprehensible.

 

He’s mentally eviscerating himself over it, when Zayn says in a tight little voice, “Hey, um, Leeyum?”

 

Oh good. This is the part where Zayn tells him they’re better off as friends, and the clarifies that the two kisses they’ve racked up don’t actually amount to anything. That’s fine. Totally cool. At least they’re gonna get it over with.

 

“What’s up?”

 

“I, um.” Zayn’s blushing cutely, looking up at him. He fingers the top two buttons on Liam’s shirt, and Liam’s heart starts beating a little faster. Fuck, why does he have to be so cute?

 

“Listen, I’m sorry,” says Liam. “For – kissing you, for – whatever else—“

 

Being jealous, his mind tells him, but he can’t say it out loud.

 

“What?”

 

“I’m _sorry_ ,” Liam says desperately.

 

Zayn shakes his head, wordless, and then he grabs Liam by the collar and presses their lips firmly together.

 

It’s the second unexpected kiss Liam’s received from a close friend in the last hour, and the only one he’s actually happy about. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. His mind has completely shut off, and his heart is going a million miles an hour.

 

“This is what I want, so stop apologizing for giving it to me,” Zayn mumbles. “I’m the one who ought to be sorry.”

 

“What? No way, that’s –“ Liam breaks off, at a loss for words, laughing incredulously.

 

“No, seriously. You probably thought – god, after last weekend, when I kissed you –“

 

“I didn’t think anything,” says Liam inanely, touching his own lower lip.

 

“I kept meaning to talk to you, but I didn’t know what to say, and I just – honestly, I was just being a coward—“

 

“It’s okay,” says Liam, steering himself away from another bray of astonished laughter. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. I’ve – to be honest, I’ve wanted this for ages.”

 

“Really?”

 

“You don’t even know,” says Liam, honest, voice cracking.

 

Zayn tugs him closer, stepping between his legs. He laughs, sweet and dazed.

 

“Me too, man. You have no idea.”

 

He tilts his face toward Liam again, pulling their bodies together. They stumble back against the brick wall behind the bus station, Zayn’s fingers tantalizingly light through Liam’s hair. Liam loops his fingers through Zayn’s belt loops. They kiss again and again, tongues winding again, and Liam thinks, _I could do this forever._

“You smell like a cupcake.”

 

Zayn smiles up at him, breathless and adorable.

 

“So do you.”

 

His cheeks are really pink, Liam notices through the haze of euphoria. Like – _really_ pink.

 

“Are you okay? You look a little rosy.”

 

“Oh, yeah,” says Zayn. “I mean, I think so. I stress-ate a bunch of cake that I’m probably allergic too, but can we maybe just keep on—“

 

“We can definitely just keep on,” says Liam, dizzy with sugar and joy, unable to believe that Zayn – Zayn! – wants to kiss him badly enough to do it in the middle of the sidewalk. “In fact, I think we should get back to the dorms as soon as possible, so we can keep, um – keep on even more.”

 

“That sounds amazing,” says Zayn, dragging his tongue over his upper lip. “Then we can figure out how to get revenge on Harry and Lou.”

 

“ _God_ yes. It’s like you’re reading my mind. Where have you been all this time?”

 

“Right here,” says Zayn, smiling. “Literally, like, right here in front of you.”

 

“You’re right,” says Liam, stupefied. “I guess I’m dumb sometimes. I can’t believe it took you getting fake-engaged to Harry for me to finally kiss you.”

 

“Honestly,” says Zayn shyly. He bites his lower lip, looking up at Liam through his lashes. “At least you’ve finally gotten it together.”

 

“Thank god, right?”

 

Liam links his fingers through Zayn’s.

 

“Listen, are you sure you don’t want to stop at a pharmacy or something? Because your face is looking a little, uh, swollen.”

 

Zayn thinks about it.

 

“One thing first. Can you promise me one thing?”

 

“Anything.”

 

“No more cake,” says Zayn seriously “Ever.”

 

Liam bursts out laughing.

 

“Okay.”

 

“And yes to the pharmacy. I can’t feel my cheeks. I definitely need medicine.”

 

“Yes, sir,” says Liam, giddy, drunk on the feeling of Zayn’s slim fingers laced through his. “Pharmacy, and then back to the dorms, and no more cake ever for any reason.”

 

The bus chugs up. Zayn stands on his tiptoes to kiss Liam on the cheek.

  


 “Sounds perfect.”


End file.
